


I am Not the Way I Ought to Be, Just the Way I’ve Got to Be

by allmilhouse



Category: Pat Novak for Hire (Radio Drama)
Genre: Emotionally Repressed, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Intimacy, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 16:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmilhouse/pseuds/allmilhouse
Summary: Warming up means embracing the cold. Getting closer to someone sometimes means pushing them away. A few nights that Pat and Jocko spent together





	I am Not the Way I Ought to Be, Just the Way I’ve Got to Be

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone order more OOC nonsense about 1940s radio characters? What's that? Literally no one wanted that? Oh. Well, then have this terrible story, on the house
> 
> Title from the Mother Mother song Simply Simple

The early morning fog rolled into the bay, and a chill drifted into the room from the open window. A warm, heavy arm snaked around Pat Novak’s slender frame, and he leaned back into the embrace, shivering slightly.

“Cold, Patsy?” a sleepy voice mumbled behind him, half muffled from a pillow.

“Mm, not exactly,” was the equally tired reply. Pat covered Jocko Madigan’s hand with his own, and gently rubbed a circle with his thumb.

 

———

 

They stumbled up the stairs, laughing too loudly for the late hour. Jocko was drunk as usual, but for once Pat was as far gone as he was. He couldn’t remember the joke that set them off, but they were still chuckling as Pat fumbled with his keys, dropping them on the thin carpet in the hallway.

Another minute and they’d have woken up the landlady, but Pat managed to get his act together long enough to usher them into his apartment.

His apartment. He hesitated for a second, as Jocko wiped the tears from his eyes, the hysterical laughter finally subsiding. He headed to the kitchen without a second thought, and busied himself making another drink. He knew where Pat kept the liquor, the glasses, the ice. True, it was a small kitchen and these items weren’t hard to find, but it was still a testament to how often Pat brought Jocko home with him. To the point where it might be considered Jocko’s home too.

Pat must’ve been frowning in thought, because Jocko walked over and took Pat’s chin in his big hand. “What’s the matter, Patsy? Caught a case of the blues?”

The concern in his face stirred something deep in Pat. “Yeah, just thinking about something. It’s nothing,” he blew it off, afraid to share his worries. For some reason it was easy to race all over town to tell Jocko the cops were hunting him down, ready to send him to the chair, but it seemed impossible to explain how he felt now. How this nighttime scene felt more domestic than anything he’d ever experienced in life.

“You think too much,” Jocko proclaimed, finally letting go of Pat and tossing back the last of his drink. The ice rolled in the glass and Jocko’s eyes followed it absently, internally debating if he should pour another drink or not.

Pat made the decision for him, taking the empty glass from his hand, and leaning up to kiss him softly. “You worry about me,” Pat said accusingly as they parted.

“Of course I do, Patsy. Do you know how many scrapes you’ve fallen into this year alone? It seems like half the city wants you dead some days.” Jocko looked puzzled, unsure why Pat was bringing this up now, late at night when they were both rather drunk.

“No, I mean-“ Pat started again, but struggled with the words. “You’re always here. You care.”

Jocko nodded patiently, still not getting it. “Yes, Patsy, I’m here. And I care. Now let’s get you to bed.”

Pat shook his head fondly, knowing he still hadn’t explained himself, but allowed Jocko to walk him to the bedroom. Pat sat down as Jocko kneeled to take his shoes off. He blushed at the diligent attention but Jocko didn’t notice, as he unsteadily got up, and moved to loosen Pat’s tie and unbutton his shirt. He was pliant as a child’s doll as Jocko finished undressing him, and stretched him out comfortably on the bed. Jocko smiled sadly as he tussled Pat’s hair fondly. “I’m a sentimental old fool, Patsy. Of course I care.”

 

———

 

The silence in the cab was unbearable, but neither man seemed ready to break it. Pat vibrated with nervous energy, leaning forward to tell the directions to the driver. His fingers tapped out a steady, impatient beat on his legs, his whole body taut and tense.

Meanwhile Jocko was static and deflated. He leaned his face against the cool of the window, looking morosely at the passing streets.

The cab finally rolled to a stop and Jocko bolted out of the car, heading into the building without looking back. Pat winced as the door slammed shut, and smiled apologetically to the driver as he paid the fare. He dashed out after Jocko, but was too far behind and didn’t catch him on the stairs.

Jocko was sitting at the kitchen table when Pat finally entered the apartment. An empty glass was in front of him, but the bottle looked like a few drinks were missing. Damn, Jocko could be quick when he wanted to. Pat headed to the freezer and found a steak at the back, a little too stiff but handy enough. He passed it to Jocko, who sighed before accepting it and pressing it gratefully to his blackened eye.

Pat leaned against the counter, unsure where to start. He had to say something, but he could tell Jocko didn’t want to hear it.

“I’m sorry you got arrested,” is what he finally settled on.

Jocko shifted in the hard wooden chair, and gave Pat a withering look with his one good eye.

“H-honest, Jocko, I didn’t mean for things to go that far. And I certainly never wanted you to get mixed up with Hellman. It’s one thing when I’m risking my neck out there, but you never signed up for this.” He swallowed hard, gaze on the floor. “I’d understand it if you wanted me to stop calling you up.”

Jocko sighed again, before lowering the steak and fixing Pat one of the saddest looks he could muster, the black eye really working in his favor.

“You know why Hellman pinched me tonight?”

Pat shook his head. “Said something about being drunk and disorderly, but I knew it sounded fishy. You may be drunk, but you’ve never been disorderly.”

“I slugged him.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” Jocko said, lifting his chin a little proudly. “We were at the Chronicle morgue like you’d asked, hunting for a lead, when he made a crack about you I didn’t like. Well, to tell the truth he made several cracks about you, and I laughed off most of them, but he started to get a little offensive for my taste. So I let him have it.”

“Five years I’ve known that man, and I’ve been dying to hit him myself,” Pat said, still stunned. “Did you hurt him?”

“Oh, his nose will recover. But it bled for a while. And he may whistle as he breathes for some time.” Jocko’s smile faded a little. “Patsy, I know you come with trouble brewing behind you. I know Hellman’s as crooked as his nose right now, and I know he’s only half as tough as the usual hoods you run with. But I’d take a shiner for you any day.”

“Move in with me.” Pat blurted it out, afraid he’d lose his nerve if he thought about the words for even a second. But it felt right to say. It was the most confident Pat felt about any decision since he first set up shop on the waterfront.

“Five minutes ago you asked my permission to disappear out of my life. Now you’re asking to live under the same roof. Patsy, did someone hit you in the head too?” Jocko chuckled heartily, turning away and pouring another drink.

He wasn’t taking it seriously, and Pat felt something sink in his chest. He couldn’t articulate how he felt, how he worried over Jocko. The hours he spent searching the city for him, afraid he’d met a dangerous fate. Maybe finally found a liquor bottle he could crawl into but couldn’t find his way out of again. Pat finally bumped into Hellman, who taunted him about locking up ‘that boisterous bruiser he paraded around town with’. It wasn’t until dawn that Pat had been able to string together enough money to bail Jocko out, and he felt like a failure. Jocko had spent more than half the night behind bars, on some doctored-up charge, all on his behalf. It made him feel low.

Jocko finished his drink, and looked at Pat again, still silent and lost in thought. “Hey now,” Jocko started slowly. “I was kidding. Your priorities didn’t seem to be in the right order this morning.”

“You’re my priority.” Pat said it with emphasis, but with his gaze firmly out the window, engaging in a staring contest with the distantly rising sun.

“Am I now?” Jocko asked, still half joking.

Pat sighed. “I can’t- I care, alright? I do care, but it’s hard for me to show it. I can’t show any weakness, or else someone will take advantage of it. I can’t afford to be as openly soft or sentimental as you can. But I care. While you were out defending my honor, I was searching the city for you, worrying my head off.”

Jocko took this all in. He poured another drink, and followed Pat’s gaze out the window. The sun was now fully risen, but it was so cloudy on the horizon that the light barely shone.

“You may have a point there, Patsy, supposing you’re serious in your offer. At least this way we can be sure of where the other one is. Less worrying on both our parts.” He took a long sip, before looking back at Pat. “I don’t want to be in your way though. What if you meet some nice young thing, and I’m taking up half your bed?”

Pat shook his head in exasperation. “Get it through your skull, Jocko. You know what I’m asking here.”

Jocko smiled. “I do. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve been up all night, and could use a nice long nap. Care to join me?”

Pat watched him get up and head across the room. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said, as Jocko lingered at the doorstep.

“I did.”

It had been a long night for Pat, and it took him a minute to recall what Jocko had said. When he finally figured it out, he broke out in a grin, and went to join Jocko in bed, a spring in his step.


End file.
